


towards peace

by actualflower



Series: fireteam: condor [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 03:52:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualflower/pseuds/actualflower
Summary: examoris: favorite people / favorite places.





	1. favorite people

**Author's Note:**

> doesn't really have a proper place in the timeline, so read whenever you'd like. contains spoilers for destiny 2 in the second chapter. 
> 
> moved from these two posts on my tumblr:  
> http://kaytewrites.tumblr.com/post/155331475260/  
> http://kaytewrites.tumblr.com/post/165217326755/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre-towerfall.

examoris-83 likes the peace of the speaker’s room in the tower. wide windows with a sweeping ceiling and the ever-moving machine in the center, like the key to it all - it brings her stillness that she rarely receives elsewhere, especially outside of the tower. she borrows his books sometimes; the speaker doesn’t mind. she doesn’t take them past the bounds of the room, anyway. she perches herself on the stairs, or near the railings, feet dangling off the edge of the walkway, warlock skirts pooled around her waist as she reads. the speaker has a bit of everything in his library, but most things revolve around the traveler. she doesn’t mind.

* * *

master rahool is kind to her, and smiles whenever she returns from her expeditions. she always brings him new engrams to decrypt, new challenges to overcome and new questions to answer. she likes that about him - most everyone else tires of her ceaseless questions after a while, but he does not. on the rare occasion that he doesn’t have an answer, she and master rahool turn to the library in search of a satisfactory answer. rarely are they left displeased with their combined efforts. 

* * *

ikora rey is stern, but kind. examoris-83 enjoys being under her tutelage - after waking under the light of her Ghost the first time, she barely understood a word anyone said; not about warlocks, or Light, or Darkness, or how she was supposed to help. now, after weeks of training and understanding why she has come to this tower and this city and learning her own place here amongst her fellow guardians, master ikora is often the first person she visits when she returns from excursions, and the last person she sees before she leaves once more.

* * *

banshee-44 is gruff and business-like, but in a way that makes examoris-83 liken him to a brother or father more than anyone threatening (not that she’d ever tell him that to his face). in the beginning, examoris-83 would always ask for a rundown of a weapon’s specifics - how to take it apart, clean it, put it back together, what it is best used for; at some point, she stopped asking - not because she knew what every weapon did, but because he learned to simply tell her upfront. his tone is always gentle, informative, warm, and she never forgets to thank him for his time.


	2. favorite places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> post-towerfall.

in the rebuilt city, examoris does not find much peace. the tower is good, yes - there is life and civilization and people, always more people, new people every day, and even new guardians. it is wonderful. examoris does not find much peace, but it is good, at least. but her favorite places are the quiet places.

* * *

ikora rey always makes time for her, in the little circle of the bazaar she keeps. it is loud, but the kind of comfortable-loud where no one is speaking to you or looking at you - the first few days after the tower was rebuilt, everyone wanted to speak to examoris; but ikora let her seek shelter and meditation and calm in her space. the noise is white and clean around her. ikora, for her part, speaks only when examoris asks to. sometimes they talk of the cabal and the red war, those long months of worry and pain and dark. sometimes they talk of the speaker. sometimes they talk of nothing at all, speaking only to fill the air. it is comforting, now, to be able to do that.

* * *

devrim kay, too, has come to know the metal guardian well. she seeks his church spire when the tower becomes too much - ikora can only shield her so much, and she will not make master rahool or banshee-44 hide her from those who wish to ask advice or to thank her or to try and ply her to their cause more than than they already do. she takes her ship and flies to the east, to the EDZ, to a quiet man who likes tea and can stand silent for hours at a time. the first few times she sat quietly on the couch near his sniper’s nest, reading a book with her gun in her lap, he looked on with a bemused smile and said nothing - now, after nights spent in silent watch and examoris slowly, slowly coming to trust him, he knows that she seeks solace in the silence. the sounds of battle are a sort of lullaby all their own to the warlock, and whenever she visits, there is always an extra cup of tea waiting.

* * *

she seeks tyra karn’s home when the world is too loud, even in devrim’s nest. her home is quiet, peaceful - there are occasional guardian visitors, but tyra keeps their incursions quick when examoris is present. during the war, they would spend hours speaking, strategizing, theorizing - now, with the cabal a recent memory and not a current threat, examoris spends her time in tyra’s home like she used to in the archives, helping her decrypt engrams and unscramble coding and, occasionally, making tea. examoris still doesn’t have the hang of it yet, but she’s getting there. tyra never asks her why she comes, and examoris is thankful every time.

* * *

she misses the speaker fiercely. she misses his quiet counsel, his calm countenance, his advice and comfort and ever-listening ear. examoris was not the one to find his body, but she was there for the burial. his grave is small, unadorned except for a headstone and a glass case for a plain white ghost shell. she visits as often as she can, bringing little gifts to his grave like she used to in life: nessus flowers, vials of titan saltwater, rock samples from io. letting him see the planets he swore to defend. she will speak to his grave, quietly, detailing everything she has seen and done since her last visit. it is a type of mourning, she thinks, and quietly leaves another gift: a warlock bond, old and broken and frayed. it does not sing with light, anymore - it was broken when the traveler was caged, and nothing she does will fix what has been hurt. she leaves it next to her other gifts, tucked between them like a centerpiece.


End file.
